


The Placement

by Anonymous



Category: Fake News RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-17 08:05:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Another secret, another late night conversation.</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. The placement

The Placement

 

Stephen clutched his suitcase with both hands. The officer who had come to pick him up – Lieutenant Hodgman (“But call me Mr.”) – was locking the door to the room where Stephen had lived for the last two years. He was a slightly plump middle-aged man with a moustache. His white dress uniform looked immaculate. 

The Lieutenant slipped the key in a small white envelope and stuffed it in his pocket. Stephen closed his eyes and tried to picture the small, bare room. It was no longer his home.

“Have you got all your belongings?”

Stephen nodded. He hadn’t collected a lot of belongings over the years but he had a few priced possessions that he didn’t want to be parted with; including pictures of his parents and his University text books. Owning personal belongings was one of the few rights the Charter granted him, and he wanted to take advantage of it. 

“Right then, are you ready? I’m sorry, what a dumb question. You’ve been ready all your life, haven’t you?” 

Stephen nodded numbly and let Mr Hodgman lead him out of the building, over the rainy court yard and into the giant castle on the other side. 

He couldn’t believe that this was happening. He only had a tenth left of his service, and he’d been lulled into the comforting belief that he wouldn’t be placed years ago.

He was used to working hard and living simply. He gladly followed orders and didn’t ask for much. Whatever sex he had – and it wasn’t much these days – was sex that he had freely chosen and with women, as was his preference. At night he studied his text books and made plans for the academic career he would pursuit once he’d earned his freedom. 

And then, just the other week, the dreaded envelope had been delivered to his door. “Notification of placement,” it had read. “On the request of the Captain Jonathan Stewart, we hereby inform you that you have been claimed as a pet for the remainder of your service.” He’d been claimed by the steward himself. Stephen hadn’t known whether to laugh or cry.

He was brought out of his reverie when they reached the long corridor that led up to the steward’s office. He’d never been in this part of the castle before and he found the large panorama windows fascinating. He could see most of the city from here. 

There was a guard who nodded at the Lieutenant and opened the door for them.

The first thing Stephen thought when he saw the steward was that he wasn’t anything like Stephen had expected. He was sitting behind his desk, one sneakered foot on the ground, the other on a footstool. He was wearing his uniform trousers but his jacket was draped over the back of the chair. His shirt sleeves were rolled up. He had a pen in his mouth.

Mr Hodgman coughed politely. “My dear friend, let me introduce you to your new _chaton_ , Stephen Colbert.” 

Captain Stewart took his pen out of his mouth. “Oh, he’s cute! It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr Colbert. I’m Captain Jonathan Stewart, but you know that already. As you know, you’ve been assigned to me for the remainder of your service, until July of next year.” 

Stephen didn’t know if he was expected to respond so he just nodded.

Captain Stewart leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m a pretty laid-back person. I like my crossword puzzles and I like to get laid. I want someone that I can talk to, someone who can keep me company. I have a healthy sex drive and I expect my pet to keep up. I love having my cock sucked and I love to fuck.”

Stephen could practically feel the color draining from his face. He felt like he was going to faint.

“Awww, don't be like that. Hodge, he's looking at me like he's facing his execution. It's just my cock, pet. It hasn't killed anyone yet.”

Mr Hodgman laughed quietly behind him. The Captain looked calmly at Stephen. His eyes were a beautiful shade of blue. 

“I’m not a sadist. I’m not rough in the bed room or out of it. Living with me is not punishment, and sex with me is not abuse. Because you’re a virgin it will be uncomfortable for you the first time, but I’ll do everything I can to make it up to you.

The only time I will deliberately hurt you is during punishment, and the easiest way to avoid finding out what that’s like is to not break my rules. I only have a few of them and none of them are arbitrary. Even during punishment you will never be in any danger.” 

A soft smile played on his lips. “I don’t mind giving head and I hope you’ll let me do it for you. I’ve heard I’m quite good at it.”

It had been an awfully long time since Stephen had gotten off like that. At least he had that to look forward to.

“You’ll be confined to my quarters when I’m not at home, at least for the first couple of months. If you want to go anywhere with me, all you have to do is ask. I’ll be happy to help you with anything you need regarding your education, or plans for the future. If you have any problems I hope that you trust me enough to ask for my help. I really want us to become friends.” 

Stephen couldn’t contain himself. He laughed. It sounded sharper than he’d thought. “You want to be my friend? My friend who locks me up and has the legal right to hurt me?”

Captain Stewart shrugged. “Pretty much, yeah. Some of my best friends have been pets I owned.” He sighed deeply. “We’ll talk more tonight. For now I really want to see how tight you are. Hodge?”

Before Stephen had the chance to react, Mr Hodgman had taken the suit case out of his hand and was unfastening his trousers. Stephen was turned around and heard a drawer being opened behind him. His underwear was pulled down around his ankles.

Panic flared deeply inside him and he took a step backwards, only to find himself caught between two strong men. The only thing left to do was to beg. ”Please, whatever you’re go-.”

He could feel Captain Stewart parting his buttocks and caressing his anus. No one had ever touched him there, except the doctor that one time he had an infection in his bladder. And now, the Captain was touching him there like it was his right, which, Stephen realized, it now was. Stephen felt like crying; and then...

“The journey starts here, pet.”

There was a cold, wet pressure as Captain Stewart entered him with his fingertip. Stephen let out a yelp and instinctively tried to pull away but Mr Hodgman’s grip was strong. The finger inside him was joined by another while a third, that he realized must be the Captain’s thumb, pressed against the muscle from the outside. 

There was no pain to speak of; just the horrible feeling of being invaded. In the back of his mind he realized he was being treated gently, and it was such an absurd notion that he wanted to laugh. He could barely make out the voices behind him.

”Yeah, he's awfully tight. It's going to take a lot of work to get him ready. It's a good thing I like having a project.”

”Well, there's having a project and there's building the Hoover Dam.” 

”Hey, don't be mean, Hodge. I'm sure he'll do his best. Hold on.”

Stephen whimpered as the fingers inside him were carefully scissored, in what he realized was an attempt to widen the sphincter. It didn’t feel like it was working. 

He tried to remember what he’d picked up from gossiping with the other slaves, back when they were all waiting to be placed. Something about relaxing your body through breathing. He took a few deep breaths. The guard at the door looked bored. 

Suddenly, the fingers were removed. For a second he felt cold and empty. Before he knew it, Mr. Hodgman had fastened his trousers and turned him round. His underwear felt strange against his wet anus. 

Stephen rubbed his eyes to try to stem the tears that were forming in his eyes. He wasn't successful.

Captain Stewart was once again seated behind his desk and was wiping his hand on a handkerchief. He smiled gently at Stephen.

”Like the Lincoln tunnel, that exit is now also an entrance.” he said softly. Stephen's jaw clenched.

The smile on Mr. Stewart's face faded. ”Look, I know you hate my guts right now. I don't blame you. But those feelings will fade. And when they do, I hope you'll give me a chance. I promise I'll take good care of you.”

It was just eighteen months, Stephen told himself. Eighteen months and then he'd be free. ”I’ll try, Sir.”

“Thank you. That’s all I ask.” The captain sighed and turned to his second-in-command. ”Would you please take him down to my quarters? Help him get his things in order. And would you please see if you can get the priest to come talk to him.” He looked at Stephen again. “Maybe that will help ease his mind.”

“Sure thing, Jon.” 

“And make sure he's fed and rested for tonight.”

The implications of that sentence felt like a cold shower to Stephen. In a few hours he would have the Captain's cock in his mouth or ass. The simple examination had been intense; he couldn't begin to imagine what it would be like to be fucked.

The side door suddenly opened and a beautiful blonde woman, probably an aide, stuck her head in the doorway. ”We're waiting for you, Jon.”

The Captain lit up when he saw her and smiled warmly at her. Stephen could suddenly see why he was considered beautiful.

”Thanks Lauren, I'll be right there. This is my new pet.” He pointed to Stephen.

The woman – Lauren –turned towards him and smiled. She looked friendly. ”Congratulations.” 

It took Stephen a couple of seconds to realize she had been addressing him. 

When the door had been closed behind her, Captain Stewart had a thoughtful expression on his face. 

“Look, Stephen.” It was the first time he had used Stephen’s first name. “It may seem unimaginable right now, but we're going to have a lot of fun together.”

Stephen laughed nervously. “Yeah, lots of fun.” 

He didn’t speak as the two man exchanged pleasantries, or as the Lieutenant told him to pick up his bag and follow. 

The end of his service, which had seemed so close just a few days ago, now seemed farther away than ever. 

He’d have to live through eighteen months of confinement. Eighteen months of being in the Captain’s company most of the day, of following his rules, of trying to take care of him. It was eighteen months of living with the possibility of corporal punishment; of getting to know the Captain’s body with his mouth and hands and learning what it was like to be taken in intercourse.

It was eighteen months of being _owned_.

The realization of what was waiting him was finally sinking in and the dread was almost unbearable. He kept quiet all the way through the winding corridors as Mr Hodgman escorted him to his new home. When they were in the elevator, the lieutenant broke the silence.

“I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking the end of your assignment seems awfully long away, and you’re not sure you’re going to make it.” 

Stephen didn’t respond but he had the feeling his eyes said everything Mr Hodgman needed to know.

“Take my word for it: you’ll adjust sooner than you think. Before you know it, it will be the final days of your service, and by then you’ll be begging him to keep you.” He sighed wistfully. “Somehow they all do.”


	2. Happy Holidays

The first thing Stephen realized when he woke up was that he was alone. He rolled over and looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was half past two in the morning. Now that his good ear wasn’t pressed to the pillow he could hear sounds coming from the living room; clinking noises and mutterings.

Shaking off his sleep, he reached for the bath robe that was folded on the chair next to his side of the bed and got up. The silk underwear he was wearing felt cool against his sensitized skin. It felt soothing. 

He hadn't experienced full-on penetration for almost a week. Captain Stewart – Jon – had said he wanted to give him two nights of rest after each time they made love, and he had been very busy the last couple of days. He often called what they did ‘making love’ and Stephen had the feeling he didn’t use that phrase ironically.

From a superficial standpoint it did feel like being made love to – the hands running over his shoulders and arms, the kisses pressed onto his cheek and neck, the careful attention paid to his comfort.

Stephen still needed a lot of preparation to get to the point where he could be fucked and even then he was tight. He hadn’t quite gotten over the shock of not being alone in his body; of being used in such a deeply intimate way. That part would have been easier for him if he had some previous experience with sleeping with men; not that consensual sex could ever be compared to this sort of situation. 

The other sexual contact was less intense. Jon was exceedingly patient and understanding of Stephen’s misgivings. He didn’t ask for Stephen’s mouth without washing himself first, and was always gentle when he did ask for it. He was an enthusiastic cuddler who could spend hours hugging and caressing Stephen; and he always listened to what Stephen had to say. He liked giving back rubs. He always tried to make Stephen come.

Stephen had been surprised to discover how much pleasure he could take from the situation, how he could enjoy sex even under these circumstances. It didn’t make him resent Jon any less.

Jon hadn’t kissed Stephen on the mouth yet, although it was clear he wanted to. Stephen thought what Jon really wanted was for them to share romantic French kisses in front of the fireplace, as if he was Stephen’s partner and not his de facto owner. And yet, he had said that that was something Stephen had the right to refuse; just like he had to right to refuse Jon’s mouth on his cock.

Stephen thought it was hilarious.

As he entered the room he found Jon on the floor holding a dustpan full of glass shards. He was wearing his night shirt over a pair of jeans. He was puffy and red-eyed. Stephen thought he looked greyer than ever.

”Oh, shit. Did I wake you? I'm so sorry, sweetheart. You can go back to bed.”

“Do you want some help?”

“It’s okay, I got it.”

Stephen tried to remember something he had heard the first night, when he’d been jittery with nerves and not able to pay attention to what was being said. ”Are you maudlin now, Sir? Is this the part where I’m supposed to hold your hand?”

Jon put the pan away. He shook his head. ”I'm nowhere near that drunk. And I don't plan to be. Please, Stephen, go back to bed. There’s no point in you losing your sleep as well.”

“Do I have to?” Stephen fingered the belt of his robe. He hadn’t tried negotiating before, but something told him he should try it now. If he was told no a second time he would go. He didn’t want to risk being punished. “I don’t think I can sleep. Could I stay a little while?”

Jon sighed and went over to the couch where he sank down. “Sure. Come sit with me.”

Stephen did as he was told. There was a framed photograph on the table next to the bottle of scotch. It was of a dark haired woman in a slightly outdated dress style. She was smiling and looking off to the side; as if the photographer wasn’t who she was interested in.

“I’d offer you a drink but you have to get your own glass from the kitchen.”

Stephen looked from the glass in Jon’s hand to the dustpan on the floor. “I’m good, thanks. So, who is she?”

Jon reached for the photograph as if to flip it over, but ended up caressing the frame instead.

“My wife.”

He had expected Jon to say she was an old pet, maybe his first. Considering how attached he was to his pets, it wouldn’t be strange for him to keep pictures of them around. 

“I didn’t know you’d been married.”

Jon poured himself another shot. “Until death did us part.” 

Stephen felt his heart skip a beat. “I’m sorry.” 

Jon shrugged and tipped back his glass. “It’s a long time ago now.”

Stephen bit his lip. “Was that before or after you participated in your first placement, Sir?” 

Jon shot him a curious look. “Are you trying to pull the pop-psychology thing on me? As someone who dabbled in actual psychology, I say cut the fuck out.”

Stephen swallowed nervously. “You said we were going to be friends.”

Jon’s expression softened. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me.” He was quiet for a while. “Tell you what: I’ll answer that question if you answer one of mine. Is that okay with you?” Stephen nodded. He hadn’t volunteered a whole lot of information about himself but he suspected Jon knew more about him than he was letting on.

“Before. “

“What?”

Jon had turned a little in the couch so that he was facing Stephen. One of his legs was pulled up under him and his thigh was almost touching Stephen’s. He smiled a little sadly. Stephen thought about what it had felt like to have that mouth on his nipple. 

“My wife died before I had my first pet companion. We met when we were still fairly young. By the time I was old enough to qualify we had already married. After I had lost her, I was devastated, but when I had gotten through the worst of my grief I still craved sex and intimacy. I started wondering if this kind of relationship,” he punctuated the word with a gentle squeeze of Stephen’s shoulder, “was something for me. To own another person requires a lot though; patience, determination and empathy. I did a lot of soul searching, a lot of reading, and eventually I was ready to make a commitment. My first pet was placed with me for a little over two years. It was an amazing experience and I’ve never looked back.”

Stephen rubbed his hands over his thighs. Unlike the underwear, his robe was made out of cotton. 

“How many have you had?”

“That’s an awfully personal question. And besides, it’s my turn.” Jon leaned back as if to give back some of Stephen’s personal space. “Have you forgiven your family for selling you?”

Stephen answered without missing a beat. “Sure. It was the best option for everyone. Myself included.”

Jon made a facial expression that Stephen had never seen before; he wrinkled his whole face around his nose. It was probably meant to be a look of sympathy, but it just looked like he was in pain. “I didn’t ask for your assessment. I asked if you’ve forgiven them.”

Stephen shook his head. “There is nothing to forgive. My… my brother was the one who made the decision. He needed to care for the whole family, including our mother. Money was tight, I was the only one young enough to go into service. It was logical.” He looked away from Jon. Why did it feel like his voice was shaking when it wasn’t?

“If I hadn’t gone into service I wouldn’t have been able to study. I wouldn’t be eating as well as I am now. The palace has good health care and good sanitation. The –”

“Which is a whole lot of words to avoid saying that you haven’t forgiven him.”

Stephen didn’t know what to say.

A couple of weeks ago, he had had his one month evaluation. His doctor had been a kind, elderly man who had offered him a cup of tea and had asked him over and over if he was being treated well. After running a series of tests he had asked Stephen to strip down so he could examine his body for cuts or bruises. Finally, he had asked Stephen to get on his hands and knees and had used a speculum to make sure there were no internal damages. By that point, Stephen had gotten so used to being touched down there that the examination gave him only minimum discomfort. 

After it was over the doctor had asked him to stay while he wrote down the report and had given him a copy to take home. Stephen could recite the final paragraph by heart:

_The patient is a healthy young man who appears to be adjusting well to his placement. There are no signs of injuries or depression. No recommendations at this point._

Stephen knew that the function of the evaluations was to protect the health of all placed pets, and that the State could terminate a placement based on the recommendation of the examining physician. He was grateful for this, and yet he couldn’t help but think of how much damage could be done to a person in a month. 

Tears burned behind his eyelids. He felt his voice break. “I – I haven’t.” 

There was suddenly a hand on his shoulder. “Take a couple of deep breaths, sweetheart.” 

Stephen complied and he soon felt better. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyelids. This time he was successful in stopping the tears. “You love this, don’t you?”

Jon rubbed soothing circles on Stephen’s shoulder and back. “Pets breaking down? I’m glad to say that doesn’t happen very often.”

Stephen put his glasses back on. Now that he was back in focus, Jon appeared slightly nervous.

“You love taking care of someone who is completely at your mercy. Am I right?”

Jon smiled. “I don’t mind taking care of my pets, no. If I did, I wouldn’t have signed up for it.”

It sounded like he was talking about volunteering for military or civil service. “Why did you sign up for it?” 

“I already told you. I like intimacy and sex.” 

Stephen wondered how Jon would react if he tried to shake off his hand. He decided not to test it. “So why don’t you try dating? Surely a placement can never replace a real relationship.”

Jon smiled, but he looked anxious. “What makes you think I want a real relationship?” 

Stephen took a deep breath. “Because tonight, on a Holiday I know you don’t celebrate, you poured your wife a glass of whiskey, and then you broke it when the sight of it was too much to bear.” 

Jon froze for a second, and then removed his hand from Stephen’s shoulder. He looked serious, but not angry. Stephen took this as a good sign. 

“You’re terrified of a real relationship, so you keep taking in pets. It’s practical for you. You don’t have to seduce them.  
You don’t have to spend a lot of time to try to win them over. From day one you get companionship and all the intimacy you could ask for. The fact that they’re –“ he deliberately used a word that didn’t include him “– completely vulnerable gives you greater opportunity to take care of them. Then, before they get a chance to grow tired of you, they leave. Thanks to the formalized process, the separations are friction free. You’ve created enough happy memories for them that they look fondly at their time with you, and want to remain in your life as friends. Then you request the next pet, and on it goes.”

Jon was quiet. He was turning his empty glass over in his hands. He didn’t look at Stephen. “If it’s not me,” he said at last. “It’s someone else. You don’t know what kind of creeps work the scene.”

“There wouldn’t have been someone else for me.” 

Was that guilt in Jon’s eyes? It sure looked like it. “I wanted you.” 

“Why?”

Jon finally looked at him. He seemed to be genuinely surprised at Stephen’s question. “Why wouldn’t I want you? You looked very handsome in your headshot. You seemed sweet and bright. I couldn’t believe you’d been overlooked.”

Stephen snorted. “Overlooked. That’s one way of putting it.” 

Jon winced. “Do you hate it that much? Living with me?”

Stephen paused. After six weeks, he was slowly getting used to being so close to another person. He had already accepted the sexual pleasure and the near constant physical contact. The truly difficult thing was being home alone while Jon was at work. 

He didn’t miss working at the call center, but he missed having something to do and colleagues to talk to. He tried to pass the time by doing housework and reading each and every book in Jon’s library. 

Still, the confinement was the tough part. That, and living with the unspoken threat of punishment. He knew Jon would never seriously hurt him, but the knowledge that he could be ordered to bend over and submit to a spanking caused the butterflies in his stomach to flutter. 

He decided to be completely honest. “I don’t hate it. It’s difficult, but it’s getting better.”

Jon smiled again, this time without a trace of anxiety. “I’m glad to hear that. You mustn’t be afraid to tell me when you’re going through a tough time. I’m your friend, remember? Friends look out for each other.”

Stephen nodded. No matter how he felt about his brother’s decision, or his years of service before coming here, that was all in the past. He was doing well and two years from now he could be anywhere in the world. He could be sitting in the library of any university on the continent, burning the midnight oil with thick, leather bound books in front of him. No matter where he ended up, he would be free.

Jon would still be here, mourning the death of his wife while a new pet slept in his bed. Stephen felt a pang of sadness at the thought.

He reached forward, and briefly, as briefly as he could make it, pressed his lips against Jon’s in a chaste kiss. “Happy Holidays, Jon. Don’t get any ideas about kissing.”

His owner’s eyes widened in surprise, but he smiled and took Stephen’s hand in his. 

Maybe they could both find their way to freedom. Stephen wanted desperately to believe that. He didn’t.


	3. Progression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another secret, another late night conversation.

Stephen stirred and opened his eyes. He reached over and gently turned the dial on the lamp by his bed. The light was just strong enough to illuminate the face of the clock on the night stand. It was two in the morning. 

He glanced over at Jon who lay a few feet away. Stephen had insisted that they sleep on each side of the bed. Jon had accepted his request without question, perhaps relieved that Stephen had made one at all. 

It wasn't that he was opposed to being close to Jon. He had actually grown to enjoy being cuddled by him, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to be in physical contact with him all the time. He needed some privacy, even if it was only a few inches away in his own sheet. 

The temperature was pretty high. It was high summer, and the vent in the ceiling was the only thing that let air into the windowless room. Most mornings Stephen woke with the sheets sticking to his body.

Jon's face was turned away but Stephen's trained ear could easily pick up the soft mutterings.  
”Please... Baby...You're... Mmm-aaaah...” 

Stephen closed his eyes and laid his head down on his pillow. He had discovered during his first couple of nights that Jon often spoke in his sleep. It was bits and pieces of a conversation that he was having over and over. The terms of endearment had made Stephen suspect that Jon was dreaming about previous pet companions, but after their Easter conversation he was leaning towards Jon's dearly departed wife. 

Stephen didn't really care one way or the other. The less he knew about his owner’s previous sex life, the better. At least Jon didn't snore. 

”I'm sorry. Tracey, I'm sorry!”

Stephen opened his eyes. Jon had never sounded distressed before. Part of him wanted to listen if Jon would say anything more and part of him wanted to ignore it and go back to sleep. His curious side won and he turned over to face Jon. Moments passed in silence. And then...

”No! Don't hurt her! I'll do anything, just don't... Please!”

The last word was filled with such despair that Stephen hadn't heard anything like it in over twenty years. Not since his father had died. Not since his mother... 

Stephen cranked the dial up all the way and flooded the room with light. He put his hand firmly on Jon's shoulder and shook. ”Wake up!”

For a moment Jon seemed to be lost in his dream, but then he opened his eyes and stared up at Stephen as if to find his bearings. He took a big gulp of air and clung to Stephen.

”It's okay. It was just a bad dream. You're okay now.”

Their cuddling sessions were usually a lot more casual. Jon would simply hold out his arms, gently caressing and holding Stephen if he chose to come into them. On the nights that Stephen didn't, he would stay on his side of the bed, engaging in small talk for a couple of minutes before turning off the lights. Whether Stephen would want to cuddle or not differed. Sometimes he craved the skin-on-skin contact after sex, sometimes he didn’t. Other times he pretended not to want it just for the satisfaction of having something he could deny. 

Now, he let himself be clung to. He would for as long as Jon would need to or until his arm fell asleep, depending on which came first. After a minute or so, Jon’s grip loosened and he took a shuddering breath, almost as if he was coming back to his senses. He pulled away slightly. “Well, this is embarrassing. I don’t suppose you just happened to be overcome with an urge for hugging, did you?” 

Stephen scoffed slightly. “Sorry. I do think you make a good pillow, but you’re not nearly as enticing as you may think.” He rubbed Jon’s shoulder gently. “Are you okay now?”

Jon nodded. He looked awkward and scared. “Yeah, I’m all right. Sorry I woke you.”

“I was awake anyway.”

“Why? Is everything all right?”

For all the power that Jon had no problem wielding over Stephen, he certainly fussed over him. It was almost endearing. 

Secure that Jon was all right, Stephen let him go and moved back to his side of the bed. “Yes, it’s just a bit hot in here.”

“No worse than what you’re used to, surely.” 

Stephen thought back to the variety of rooms he had slept in during the last fourteen years; from the dorm room he had shared with three of his class mates to the barren quarters in the commerce complex. All of them had had the same problem with climate control; drafty in the winter, hot and humid in the summer. The weather was always intense up here in the mountains.

“Not really, no.” He shook his head, but Jon wasn’t looking in his direction. 

Stephen made up his mind on the spot. He knew that Jon was still hurt by something that had to do with his dead wife and it was information that could come in handy later. He wasn’t someone who liked to scheme, but he wasn’t above looking out for himself either. Stephen rolled over and schooled his features into his sweetest, most sincere expression. 

“Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?”

“Not really.”

“I think it would do you good. I mean, that’s what I’m here for, isn’t it? To be your companion?”

Jon seemed to struggle with himself. Then he sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

“It was back when I was a lieutenant. I was stationed at Hertz. I couldn’t get leave for our first anniversary so I arranged for Tracey to take the bus out for the weekend.”

“Tracey was your wife?”

Jon nodded. “I only had five months left of my rotation. After that, I was going to request a post back in the city. We were hoping to start a family.” 

Stephen didn’t know a lot about how the military worked, but he did know that family members were allowed on military outposts occasionally. 

“Did something happen to the bus?” 

“No, she made it out. I was so happy to see her. She must have been happy too. We had MREs for dinner, we shared a bunk bed and she didn’t complain once.” 

“So what happened?”

Jon swallowed. “Earlier that week we had come across a band of robbers. We confiscated their loot and weapons and drove them away.” He gave Stephen a guilty look. “Sure, we roughed them up a bit. But we sent them packing alive.”

Stephen winced. He knew that Jon had an extensive military background, but his mind had always glossed over the violent parts. Military men knew how to hurt and kill. He should never forget that.

Jon continued, his voice flat. “It turns out they weren’t a band of robbers after all. They were mission forces, travelling incognito to the border. That’s why they weren’t wearing mission armor. We only learned that afterwards, of course.”

“What did they do, Jon?”

“They ambushed the complex in the dead of the night. The major called us out to fight. I thought she’d be safe in the rec room. She wasn’t.” 

Stephen searched his mind for any memory of a mission attack on a capital outpost. It would have been around the time he first came to the city. “What happened to the assassins?”

Jon shrugged. “Nothing. Command didn’t want to risk another war, so they cut their losses and covered the whole thing up.” His voice broke a little. “I had to tell her family she died in an accident.”

Stephen was suddenly overcome by sadness. Watching Jon was watching a man marked by years of sorrow. It was a look he was familiar with. He had seen it on his mother’s face many times growing up.

He reached for Jon, willingly and without ulterior motive. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

Jon started crying and Stephen wrapped his arms tight around him. He wanted to give him at least a fraction of the comfort that had been given to his mother in her grief. He murmured soothing words and rubbed his hands over Jon’s neck and shoulders. 

After what seemed like an eternity the sobbing stopped and Jon slid out of his arms. The two of them lay back and engaged in soothing small talk; about the hot weather, about favorite foods, about gossip Jon had heard at the office. 

Stephen was almost relaxed enough to go back to sleep when Jon touched his cheek. 

“Do you want to go out with me tomorrow?” 

Stephen could feel his heartbeat racing. He hadn’t stepped foot outside the apartment for almost five months. He’d started to worry if he’d be let out at all. He bit his lip and tried not to let his excitement show. “Where would we go?” he asked, trying to sound as cool as possible. 

Jon shrugged. “Just out. We could pick up some sandwiches and go to the park. Would you like that?”

“I would love to. Thank you.”

“And then we’ll plan another outing next week. I don’t know if you know, but the old town is home to the biggest museum on the continent. I think you’d enjoy it.” 

Stephen knew all about it; the vast collection of archeological artifacts and documents reaching from floor to ceiling. He had wanted to see it since he was a kid. 

Jon looked at him solemnly. “I trust that you’re not going to try to run. Are you?”

Stephen was taken back. Of course he wouldn’t try to run. He had only a year left of his service, and he wasn’t about to mess that up. Especially as his placement was a lot easier on him than he had expected. The sad truth was that this was the nicest home he had had in the last fourteen years. 

“No, I won’t.” Jon smiled – he looked like himself again, all traces of sorrow gone. “See, I knew I was right to trust you. You’ll be a good citizen when you’re free.” 

Stephen nodded.

He would always have to keep in mind that his time here was limited, and that whatever relationship that might develop between them had an expiration date. 

This was how things went, after all.


End file.
